If DeschainXIX and Summerlander are walking encyclopedias, I'm a walking Mad Magazine.

I just did it again and can't help it! I just called them 'know-it-alls', but I have a rapport with them and know I can razz them because we're friends. I poke fun of people I trust and know, and if I'm not making fun of anyone it's because we don't know each other well enough.

Jack Reacher joined the fray and I haven't made any rude, crude, or lewd remarks about him. He must be jealous.

Your picture is now what the true Kevin Spacey looks like without his make-up.

Desert exploring is a waste of time. You must have a sand collection at home, labeled and mounted on your walls like little trophies you're so proud of. This is what you must sound like: "I found this grain of sand in the Gobi Desert. It was so difficult to find and I had to fight off a hoard of Mongolian barbarians to bring it back safely in one piece. Notice the beauty and intricate details compared to this one I found on a Jersey Shore beach. Get in close and you can see the--- Oops! I dropped it on the carpet. Dang! Now I'll never find it. Is this it? No, it's just a bread crumb. Mom, get out of my room with that vacuum cleaner! NOOOOOOO!"

I'd rather be a dessert explorer myself. I'd dig through the layers of a cake like an archaeologist, finding nutty fossil remnants buried in the tar pits of ganache.

I only just now realized that you drew those pictures in your avatars (never noticed your signature on the picture!). Nice!

Am I the only one who detects the pervasive irony of DesertExplorer's quote? It's delightfully poetic, but, like most poetry, it's abstractedly meaningless--no doubt science has saved incomprehensibly more lives than art. In fact, our species is alive today because of science! I can't think of a way in which art has saved lives aside from serving as a sort of maintenance tool for our sanity and a platform for meaning and beauty. But I think science does that too (debatably more reliably) via drugs and other means of artificial neurological manipulation.

HAGART wrote:Desert exploring is a waste of time. You must have a sand collection at home, labeled and mounted on your walls like little trophies you're so proud of. This is what you must sound like: "I found this grain of sand in the Gobi Desert. It was so difficult to find and I had to fight off a hoard of Mongolian barbarians to bring it back safely in one piece. Notice the beauty and intricate details compared to this one I found on a Jersey Shore beach. Get in close and you can see the--- Oops! I dropped it on the carpet. Dang! Now I'll never find it. Is this it? No, it's just a bread crumb. Mom, get out of my room with that vacuum cleaner! NOOOOOOO!

God damn it!! I laughed so much at that. It's the first time that someone makes fun of me and not I only accept it, I find it delightful.

This is rare for sure. You are a true artist, Hagart. People around you must be laughing all the time.

Life is hard. Then you die. Then they throw dirt in your face. Then the worms eat you. Be grateful it happens in that order.

deschainXIX wrote:Am I the only one who detects the pervasive irony of DesertExplorer's quote? It's delightfully poetic, but, like most poetry, it's abstractedly meaningless--no doubt science has saved incomprehensibly more lives than art. In fact, our species is alive today because of science! I can't think of a way in which art has saved lives aside from serving as a sort of maintenance tool for our sanity and a platform for meaning and beauty. But I think science does that too (debatably more reliably) via drugs and other means of artificial neurological manipulation.

No, no.. you got it all wrong. First and foremost, poetry is not meaningless. In fact it can have an infinite number of meanings. You just haven't thought enough of it. Second, I hear you, but it's not so linear as you portrayed. I could give you my own understanding for that, but I want you to maintain a clear mind and give a shot at taking a good look at Blake's work. But if you're not interested anyway, just ask me and I will tell you about my own opinion on this.

P.S. Via drugs? I thought that are own nature has plants that can do that. I cannot think of any of these plants to have been elaborated.

Life is hard. Then you die. Then they throw dirt in your face. Then the worms eat you. Be grateful it happens in that order.

Designer drugs like Ecstasy and Crystal Meth are made in a lab. That's science's handywork.

The word, 'death', in the quote is in question. What did William Blake mean and why did he use that word choice?

(And oh yea, I don't often get replies from my jokes on this forum so it's not like talking face to face or with a live Instant Messaging chat where you get immediate feedback. Knowing I made one person laugh makes it worth while. Even if I don't get a response, I still like to do it from time to time because it makes myself laugh, so that's why I do it. If I were a chef, I wouldn't serve food I wouldn't want to eat, so it's the same with comedy.)

And as for my avatar picture... nobody has noticed yet, but watch it for a minute, and you'll think your mind is playing tricks on you!

Hey, a few days back I was reading a comment of yours and I thought something moved on your avatar. I stared at it for some seconds and then I quitted. Now, when I ended reading your post I did manage to see it clearly that something was moving and then I stared for longer but nothing moved again.

Life is hard. Then you die. Then they throw dirt in your face. Then the worms eat you. Be grateful it happens in that order.